Missing at Marshlands Read online

  CHAPTER X Beauty That Dazzled

  "How perfectly beautiful!" exclaimed Arden. "What is it?"

  "It is a snuffbox that once belonged to the Russian Czar. It is of greatvalue. A fortune almost." He held it so they could all see it. "Nowwatch."

  With his thumb he pushed down a section of the golden side. Thisuncovered a small compartment in which rested a little key. He took outthe key and turned the box upside down. Then they saw that the under sidewas as elaborately designed as the top. Daintily painted miniaturewoodland scenes with birds and a bounding deer. He inserted the key in atiny hole and gave it a few turns, then very carefully placed the box ona near-by table.

  The beautiful medallion in the center of the box showed a brightlyplumaged bird on a tropical tree, and around the medallion, like a frame,was a row of marvelous diamonds and rubies. The box suddenly opened, asthe group watched, and a tiny bird, not much over a half inch in height,sprang up, turned his little head from side to side, and moved his weefeathered wings up and down magically. As they waited, awe-struck, thetinkle of a song was heard, and it seemed as though the little featheredcreature was actually singing. Then in a flash the fairy songster ceasedhis song, folded up his wings, and the medallion snapped shut, leavingthe golden and bejeweled box as the cage of the little wizard.

  "Oh!" gasped Arden, the first to speak. "It is so lovely it almost makesme feel like crying," she stammered. "Could you make him do it again?"

  "Of course," Dimitri replied. "Did you see this little watch in the sideand the real feathers on the little bird?"

  "I have never seen anything like it!" exclaimed Mrs. Landry. "It must beworth a fortune."

  "It is," solemnly answered Dimitri. "It is the only really valuablepossession I have left except----" He turned aside without finishing thesentence. Again he wound the spring, and once more the remarkableperformance was repeated. The artist let them each examine the treasure,and at last taking it from Arden he looked at it fondly and verydeliberately carried it back to its hiding place. When he returned heremarked:

  "I could not bear to lose it, and perhaps it is childish of me to keep itwith me instead of in some deep bank vault, but it belonged to my mother,and I like to have it near me to look at when I become discouraged."

  The girls were still spellbound, while Mrs. Landry assured him that itwas the natural thing to do and hoped it would be quite safe in hisaffectionate keeping.

  "I have hidden it well, I hope, and I need not tell you why I havetrusted you all."

  There was something so pathetically frank about the artist's prouddisplay of his treasure that even the girls, who had joked and speculatedupon the mysterious man, were now profoundly impressed.

  "We will never violate your confidence." Mrs. Landry spoke for the group,but even that polite assurance seemed unnecessary.

  Somehow the artist knew he could trust them; and he had!

  "And now, will you try some tea, Russian style?"

  The girls agreed all at once and wanted to help, but he waved them asideand served them quite as though he were accustomed to having four guestsevery day in the week on this wobbly old houseboat.

  They sat, sipping from glasses the clear amber liquid though Dimitri, asa concession to their American tastes, offered them cream as well assliced lemon. He sweetened his own clear tea liberally.

  The houseboat, for all the masculine untidiness, was a bright pleasantplace, and the little party chatted like old friends until Mrs. Landryannounced they must go.

  "We must not wear out our welcome, you know," she said lightly, "andperhaps you will come and have dinner with us some time, Mr. Uzlov."

  "Thank you, I would be pleased to," he suavely answered.

  Then, saying good-bye, they left, a smiling, happy foursome, and startedaway in the old rowboat over to the Landry landing.

  As Terry pushed out in the boat they heard a light step, surely a girl'sstep, and a few seconds later they saw Melissa rowing quickly away fromthe side of the houseboat.

  "There's Melissa," Sim exclaimed needlessly, for they had all seen her."No need to worry about her comings and goings."

  "She's always around from one place to another. I suppose she doesn'tknow what to do with herself all day," Terry answered between strokes,taking it all very casually.

  "Where is her home, Terry? Is it near here?" Arden asked.

  "Not very. It's clear across the bay; two or three miles, anyway, isn'tit, Mother?"

  "Every bit of that," Mrs. Landry replied. "Poor creature! She doesn'tlead a very happy life. I hope you girls will be kind to her if you can."

  "Of course we will, Mrs. Landry," Sim assured her, and then in anothermood she asked, "Wasn't that a knockout snuffbox? Imagine keeping nastyold snuff in it."

  "Dimitri doesn't keep _anything_ in it. He loves it because it's sobeautiful," Arden announced. "There's a true artist for you." She wasvery much in earnest.

  "You like him a little, don't you, Arden?" Terry asked whimsically.

  "Don't be silly, Terry! You like him, too," Arden snapped back.

  "We all do, even Mrs. Landry, don't you?" Sim wanted to know, joining inthe complimentary chorus.

  Terry's mother smiled and nodded.

  "Well, I think it's strange, just the same," Arden said almost toherself, "very strange."

  "What, the box?" Sim inquired.

  "No; but I mean the way he spoke about Olga, and the way he keeps thatpicture covered," Arden answered. "And a lot of things not really--well,not exactly wordy things but _queer_ things," she wound up vaguely.

  "Melissa is odd too. Why do you suppose Olga took her riding and gave hermoney?" Terry asked, adding more interest to the mystifying questions.

  "I can't imagine. It's strange the way she always pops up," Arden added."I mean Melissa, not Olga."

  "I don't like her father, either," Terry went on. "He's the meanest man Iever saw, and I don't believe a word he says!"

  "Now, Terry," Mrs. Landry rebuked, "you know nothing about him. He's justnot like the city people we're used to, and you probably misjudge him."

  "But he seems so cruel and crafty. I wonder if he punished Melissa forstaying away the other night? The night she stayed in the garage."

  "Oh, he couldn't!" Arden exclaimed. "I'll ask Melissa the next time I seeher. I wonder where she went just now? I don't see her boat anywhere. Sheseems to have disappeared all of a sudden."

  "Playing hide and seek with us, maybe," Terry suggested. "Hope we don'tcatch any of this queer business," she finished, easing a little to lookat her burning hand.

  "I think this whole place is queer," Sim said, looking over theuntroubled bay. "I don't like that Olga, nor George Clayton, either, andI'm sure he's up to some shady business--not to say dark and dangerous."

  "Now, Sim," Mrs. Landry said gently, "you mustn't make a mystery out ofeverything. He's probably just an ordinary crabber and fisherman with adifficult daughter to look out for, and in these wild places girls cannotbe allowed to run wild, you know."

  They were almost home, and everyone seemed willing to think a little andstop talking. "Buckingham Palace" stood out with reassuring friendlinessagainst the late afternoon sky and looked decidedly more inviting thanthe moldy houseboat.

  "You may be right, Mother," Terry said, pulling the oars gently as theydrifted up to their little dock. "But there's something going on, I'msure. Something we don't know anything about--yet," she endedsignificantly.

  And no one there was to say "nay" to that possibility.